Curiosity Killed the Cat
by minna.bird
Summary: Pandora Laird is too curious for her own good. Fifth year is paradise for a bookish Ravenclaw like her, until her inquisitive nature drives her to cast a spell--with interesting consequences.
1. On the Hogwarts Express

**1. On the Hogwarts Express**

_King's Cross Station, London  
September 1, 1975_

Summer was finally over, and Pandora Laird couldn't wait to get on the Hogwarts Express. King's Cross Station was as crowded as ever, and Pan could hear her mother muttering about being forced to wade through a sea of Muggles. Pan had heard this string of complaints every year since she had started at Hogwarts, and often wished her mother would just stay home. After all, her father was perfectly capable of ushering a single eager student aboard the train; Mother could always bid her farewell at home.

But it was not to be. Both of her parents took their pure blood very seriously, and neither would miss an opportunity to be seen sending off one of their pureblood daughters to school. They would never tell her why, but Pan privately thought they were marking their daughters as theirs, in hopes that some other pureblood couple would see them together and point the girls out to their sons.

Well, it had worked with Adelais, Pan's elder sister. She had left Hogwarts last year with a proposal of marriage from a very aristocratic, very pureblooded young man. She had spent the summer mooning over him--or perhaps a better term was gloating--until Pan was thoroughly sick of hearing about Hagan-the-paragon-of-manliness. The only things Adelais loved about Hagan were his lineage and his money. Adelais wasn't a Slytherin and a proper Laird for nothing.

Adelais had only been one of the aggravations Pan had suffered at home. There had been the usual round of social events that seemed designed to show just how un-Laird-like Pan really was. She had been forced into robes in the Laird colors, black and indigo, neither of which looked particularly good on her; her impossibly thick, light brown hair had been skewered into various fashionable hairstyles, all of which eventually fell apart, usually at inopportune moments; and she was drawn into conversations about whose son had married whose daughter, when she would much rather debate the merits of various spells. As if to make things worse, her least favorite cousin, Jasper, stayed with them for the summer, and teased her at every turn. He was Adelais's age, and Pan couldn't decide which one annoyed her more that summer.

But September first had finally arrived, and the Lairds trooped out in force to meet the train. Pan was at the head of the procession, rolling the trolley that carried her trunk and the cage in which her cat, Niv, travelled. Her hair hung loose and wavy down her back and she wore a Muggle t-shirt and jeans, much to her mother's dismay. Behind her, her mother glared around at the Muggles, her gleaming auburn hair arranged in an elegant chignon. At her mother's side, her father walked, tall, imposing, and very pale. Jasper kept pace several feet to one side, occasionally flicking his long brown hair out of his eyes. Adelais and Hagan brought up the rear. Adelais's pretty, flaxen hair was drawn away from her face with a barette, and she hung onto her dark-haired fiancé's arm with a rather smug smile on her face.

Pan passed through the barrier between Muggle King's Cross and Platform Nine and Three-Quarters first, having merely walked straight through. The others took longer with their casually-leaning-on-the-wall approach. Her mother arrived with a look that suggested she had just passed an ordeal, but in the space of a moment she had brightened up. Her quick eyes were fastened on a couple not far distant.

"Come now, Pandora, I see Mr. and Mrs. Lestrange, and look, there's their son Rabastan--and the Malfoys, how delightful!" Her mother made to pull Pan off towards them, but Pan protested.

"Mother, I really have to get on the train. I don't want to be late!" Her mother sighed, then took her husband's arm and walked over to their friends.

"Oh, is Miss Goody Two-Shoes Ravenclaw afraid of being late?" Jasper's comment went unnoticed by Adelais and Hagan, but Pan turned on him with exasperation.

"No, I just want to get away from your shrill voice as soon as possible." Pan took a step away from him and rubbed her ear.

"My voice is not shrill!" Jasper said. He was touchy about his voice, which was higher-pitched than he thought it should be (his brothers all had bullfrog voices, very deep, very resonant.) Pan merely smiled. At that point, Adelais butted in.

"I hope you'll consider talking to those people I told you about; they come from very fine families, and you'd do very well to associate with them." She watched Pan closely, a challenge in her pale eyes.

"Fat chance," Pan said bluntly, and turned her trolley towards the train. She lugged her trunk aboard the Hogwarts Express before grabbing Niv's cage and tucking it under one arm. Niv mewed piteously at the treatment she was getting; she hated her cage. With the other arm, Pan lifted one end of the trunk and dragged it along the hallway as she searched for her friends. Finding that she was the first of her group on the train, she took an empty compartment. Once she'd stowed her trunk in the rack, she released Niv from her cage. The lithe, tortoise-shell cat glared at her and curled up in the corner to nurse her snit.

"Hey, Pan!" A freckled face with a corona of wavy, golden hair poked through the door of the compartment. "Just a second, gotta get my trunk in--it's really heavy!" Iona Campion, a fellow Ravenclaw and one of Pan's best friends, huffed as she got the trunk in and propped it up against one of the seats. Pan knew why it was so heavy--Iona packed much more books than Pan ever did; being Muggleborn, she couldn't rely on a generations-old library of magical tomes right inside her house. "Help me get it up on the rack, won't you?" Iona said. Pan complied, and between the two of them they managed to stow the trunk.

"How was your summer?" Pan asked.

"Pretty boring. I got through the homework really quickly, and the public library in my neighborhood is really bad, so I was stuck watching T.V. and playing with my little brother." Iona pulled a face. Pan had heard of the strange Muggle invention "television" from Iona, and gathered that it was very boring and idiotic from Iona's comments, so she nodded in sympathy. "Yours?" Iona asked.

"Don't ask," Pan groaned. "The usual, only add Jasper." Iona had, in turn, heard about the pureblood social life, which reminded her of the Jane Austen books she had read, and had also heard plenty of complaints about Jasper, so she said, "That sounds awful."

"Thank Merlin for school," said Pan, and Iona laughed. Just then, Niv raised her head and meowed blissfully. Pan and Iona turned to look, and saw a dark-haired girl standing in the doorway and mock-glaring at the cat. "Dara!" Pan stood and hugged her friend. Dara Westberk was a Gryffindor, but she had fallen in with the two Ravenclaws in the train on their first trip to Hogwarts and hadn't let house politics stop her from developing a friendship with them. Pan was very glad for that; Dara was one of the sweetest people she knew.

"I think you grew _again_," Dara said, laughing as she looked up at Pan. She was half a head shorter than Pan. "I'm glad to see you. And you, Iona! Letters are never the same." She shook her head and set to work hoisting her trunk up into the rack. When she sat, Niv immediately jumped into her lap. Dara said, "Get your cat off me." Cats made her sneeze, and she always treated Niv with laughing exasperation; the cat absolutely adored her.

"Nuh-uh. I can't do a thing about Niv. She's stubborn as a mule."

"Sounds like someone I know..." Iona teased, looking pointedly at Pan.

A timid knock came at the frame of the compartment door. A boy with wispy red hair and very blue eyes stood nervously in the door, his trunk on one side and cage containing a barn owl in the other hand. "Can I sit here?"

"Sure you can, Xeno," Dara said, smiling. Xenophilius Lovegood was a newer addition to the group; having only befriended them last year, and being of a timid persuasion, he was unsure whether he was allotted a place in their compartment. He was a Gryffindor, and it had been Dara who had brought him to them at the beginning of the year. At first Pan thought he was just a stray puppy Dara had taken under her wing--he was shy and often a target of bullying--but she came to genuinely like him. He was very intelligent and just weird enough to be great fun to talk to; he thought there were all sorts of creatures out there that no one had discovered yet, and was determined to find them.

Xeno smiled and pulled his trunk into the compartment, first placing the owl's cage on the floor just inside the door. He started to put it up in the rack, but it slipped and nearly fell back on top of him. Pan sprang up and helped Xeno stow the luggage. "Thanks," he said.

"So how did your summer in Ireland go?" Pan asked as they sat down. Niv abandoned Dara to investigate Xeno. Xeno let her sniff his fingers before petting her, and he had her purring within seconds. Pan smiled.

"Oh, it was great," said Xeno excitedly. "Uncle Angus lives out in the middle of nowhere, I mean there's _no_ towns nearby; he has to get everywhere by Floo. Anyway, there's all this neat wildlife out there. There's an Augurey that lives near his house, and we always knew when we were due for rain 'cause of that, and we even stumbled across a leprechaun settlement, and he works on a Snidget reservation over there, so I got to see some and that was really cool." He settled back in his seat, grinning.

"I'm jealous," Pan said. "Snidgets are really rare, aren't they? All that stuff with Quidditch, a while back, right?"

"Another point in the score against Quidditch players," said Iona.

"Oh, hey Iona," said Pan, noticing an absence. "Where's Conor? You didn't have a fight, did you?"

"No, of course not. Hard to fight when we never saw each other face to face. No, he's made prefect, so he has to share a compartment with them." Iona shrugged, then grinned. "No more forays into the Restricted Section for you."

Pan blushed. "That was last year. I was _curious_. Can't you ever let a thing _rest_?"

"Wait, she broke into the Restricted Section?" said Xeno, halfway between disapproval and amazement.

Dara explained, "Flitwick was talking about this book, and he mentioned it was in the Restricted Section. Well, Pan here couldn't sleep for curiosity so she snuck into the library and took a peep. Thank Merlin she didn't get caught, I say. Curiosity will be the death of her someday." She rolled her eyes.

"Why didn't anyone tell me about this?" Xeno asked.

"When was the last time you bragged about breaking a major school rule, Xeno?" Pan asked.

"I never broke a major school rule in the first place," Xeno replied, smiling. "And if you don't brag, how come they know?"

"Obviously you've never tried to keep anything from them, either," said Pan dryly.

So the train ride progressed, as they talked and laughed. There were pauses--when the witch with the snack cart came, when they had to change into their robes--but by the time the train ground to a stop, it felt as if the summer had never happened. Everything was back to normal.

**A/N: **This is the new and improved chapter 1 of _Curiosity_. I'm so sorry it's been so long since I've updated, and that my only update is to edit the chapter. I also thought I'd mention that since I am now uploading onto MuggleNet Fanfiction as well, which has a verification process that requires me to make sure _Curiosity_ is the best it can be, I'm going to be uploading only as fast as I do on MNFF, given that it may require last minute edits to get them to accept the chapter. I'll also be editing chapters two and three as I put them up on MNFF. So it'll be a few weeks at the very least before you see chapter four.


	2. The Welcome Feast

Chapter 2

The Welcome Feast

_Hogsmeade Village_

_September 1, 1975_

The students poured off the train, gabbling and shoving at one another, gathering their luggage and generally creating a bubble of chaos against the quiet landscape. The seemingly horseless carriages pulled up even as the last students left the train, and Pan and the others scrambled to get a carriage.

"Wait up, Iona!" a boy's voice called across the throng. They paused, waiting. In a matter of moments, a tall boy with bronze hair and an air of self-confidence hove into view, weaving through the crowd. He reached them and heaved a relieved sigh. "Thought I'd never find you. Come on, let's get a carriage." He put an arm around Iona and led the group forward. Iona smiled. "How was your summer, Conor?"

"Pretty good. I missed you, though." He kissed her swiftly on the cheek.

"Enough with the lovey-dovey stuff, there's a carriage. Hurry up!" Pan chivvied the rest along, while Iona glared back at her.

"We are _not_ lovey-dovey. Just 'cause _you_ never had a serious boyfriend--"

"Watch out!" Dara said, just as Iona walked straight into the open door of the carriage.

"Ow!" said Iona, pressing a hand to her forehead.

"Are you all right?" Dara and Conor asked in unison.

"Fine, fine. It'll be a bruise, is all," Iona said as she ducked inside the carriage. Conor piled in after her, followed by Dara and Xeno.

"Scooch," Pan told Conor, eyeing the little room left.

"No way. Squish Xeno and Dara," said Iona. "I'm the injured one here!"

"Want me to notify Madam Pomfrey?" Pan said sarcastically as Xeno scooted closer to Dara. With relief, Pan noted that the seat was wide enough that though they weren't comfortable, at least the three of them weren't wedged together. Pan snapped the door closed and waited for the lurch that meant the last leg of their journey had begun.

* * *

When the carriages halted, the five hastily tumbled out into the fresh night air. Even in the few minutes they had spent in it, the air in the carriage had grown unbearably close and hot. Pan decided that putting five people in a carriage in summer would never be a good idea. The air, which before had seemed warm, was now deliciously cool against her skin.

The five joined the steadily growing group of students that moved across the crisp green lawns towards Hogwarts Castle, the prospect of a feast hurrying their steps. Pan looked around her, marveling at how immediately her surroundings felt familiar. Every year she came back expecting to take a few days to get accustomed to being there again, but every year she fell immediately into the swing of things.

Her feet traced the old familiar path, across the lawns, through the great doors, into the Entrance Hall of the castle, and then to the Great Hall. The level of noise rose as the hungry students sat at their house tables; their chatter echoed off the starry veiling and the stone walls. Dara and Xeno parted from the group, waving as they went to the Gryffindor table, and Pan, Iona and Conor took seats at the Ravenclaw table. Pan's stomach growled, and she was glad to see the line of scared first years enter the Great Hall. McGonagall had only to look sternly over the tables, and hushing noises glided over the steadily decreasing roar of talk, till the roar had turned to a mere mutter. The Sorting Hat took that as its cue to sing. Several of the first years looked at it with open astonishment, others looked relieved--no doubt they had expected worse. The four Houses were allotted new students, to rousing applause, Dumbledore gave his usual concise speech, and finally the feast began. Pan ate ravenously, listening to the joking repartee and earnest conversations around her. She didn't join in; that would require a pause in her eating, and for the moment she was too hungry for that.

* * *

Dessert had finally disappeared from the golden plates and the students leaned back in their chairs, sated and lethargic. The prefects--including Conor--stood up to lead the first years to their dormitories, and Pan and Iona kept paced with Conor and the other Ravenclaw prefect, a girl named Cassidy Hayes. When they had reached Ravenclaw Tower, Conor brought the first years' attention to the bronze knocker, which was shaped like an eagle.

"Pay attention back there!" When the first years' at the back had quieted, Conor began. "This house does not operate like other houses. The other houses have passwords, and need only rote memorization to enter their houses. We, however, must answer a question in order to enter. If you do not have the answer, you must wait until someone comes who does know the answer. Now, to get in."

The knocker recognized its cue--many prefects over the years had performed this spiel--and piped up: "If Frank's mother is the soul of honesty, what is his brother's name?"

"Now does anyone know the answer?" asked Conor, glaring at Pan, who had dissolved in a fit of giggles. The knocker gave the same riddle every year on the night of the Welcome Feast, and every Ravenclaw was very familiar with the answer, except for the newcomers. To Pan, after all these years, the answer seemed painfully obvious.

One of the first years blurted, "That's impossible! It's like guessing Rumpelstiltskin's name--it could be anything!"

"Rumpel who?" Pan muttered.

"Rumpelstiltskin. It's a Muggle fairy tale," replied Iona. "I'll tell you later."

Meanwhile, Conor said, "You're thinking too literally. The first thing you want to know about riddles is that the questions are pretty cryptic. They often say one thing, and mean something totally different."

A few kids called out names at random--Rick, Bill, even Agamemnon. Some stood silent with furrowed brows; others looked at the door with horror, obviously dreading doing this every day.

"Hey," said one kid finally, after a couple minutes of contemplation. "I think I know. His name's Ernest. Get it, 'cause it sounds just like earnest, which means frank or honest." There was a chorus of _oh_s, and the door opened. Conor directed the first years to their dormitories, and Pan and Iona snatched two chairs by a window.

"So tell me about this Rumpel-whatsit," said Pan idly after a short silence.

"Rumpelstiltskin," Iona corrected. After a pause, she said, "All right. So there was this miller, and he had a daughter…" Pan, who had been on the verge of sleep, woke up and listened, occasionally saying, "Weird!" Wizarding fairy tales were much more believable to those listening than Muggle fairy tales were, for many of them were possible, even if they weren't probable. That Muggles had thought this story up was a little mind-boggling to Pan; she'd been raised on the idea that because Muggles didn't know anything about magic, they couldn't imagine it.

Just as Iona got to the end, a tapping came at the window pane. Pan looked up and saw a tawny owl hovering outside, looking rather cross at being stuck delivering a letter through the window. Pan quickly unlatched the window and in a fluttering of feathers the owl dropped the letter in Pan's lap and was gone. She opened it, mystified. The note read,

_Miss Laird--_

_Your presence is requested in the Head's Office in fifteen minutes' time. No one will give you detention for being out after curfew. My apologies for disturbing you at this time of night, and on the first night, at that! Yours,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

"Well? What is it?" asked Iona impatiently as Pan stared at the letter.

"Dumbledore wants me in his office in fifteen minutes. Didn't say why."

"What did you do?" Iona's brow was furrowed with worry and something very like disapproval.

Pan threw up her hands, exasperated. "I didn't do anything! At least," she added uncertainly, glancing at the letter, "I don't think I did."

"Well, no use dithering. The sooner you get there, the sooner you'll find out." Iona's tone was brisk; when Iona was worried, Iona acted businesslike.

"But the note said fifteen minutes!" protested Pan, who was enjoying her chair very much and didn't much feel like getting up.

"Never hurts to be early." Iona was now on her feet, beckoning Pan out of her chair. Pan rose, groaning.

"_You_ get to go to sleep," Pan grumbled. Under Iona's gaze, she left the common room.

"Good luck," Iona called as Pan closed the door.


	3. Dumbledore's Office

Chapter 3

Dumbledore's Office

_Hogwarts Castle_

_September 1, 1975_

The walk to the headmaster's office wasn't long to a student who knew the corridors of Hogwarts well, but the walk seemed to be both longer and shorter than it ought to be. Pan felt like she was dreaming; she jumped at small noises and in between constantly twitched at the strange silence in the corridors. Pan reached the corridor that contained the headmaster's office without meeting a soul.

She did find people where she least expected them: standing in front of the entrance to Dumbledore's office were a bleary-eyed brunette and a tow-headed boy in hushed conversation. The first she identified as Alice Moran, a fifth-year Gryffindor, and the other as Win Paxton, a Hufflepuff who was also in her year.

Curiosity overcame surprise, and Pan asked, "Why are we here? Do you know?"

"Not a clue," said Alice. "That's what we were trying to figure out. Pandora, right?"

"Pan. And you're Alice and Win." The two nodded. She had a thought. "Did either of you two ever break into the Restricted Section?"

"No way," said Alice firmly; Win merely shook his head. Either he was naturally quiet, or very tired.

"Weird. Guess we're back to guessing." Pan heard running footsteps and turned to see a dark boy, out of breath, halt just beyond their small group. He was Alexander Dorn, a Slytherin--and also a fifth year. He looked around, panting, and said, "Well, looks as if there's more than one of us."

"Let's give a round of applause for his amazing skills of observation," said Alice sarcastically to Win. It seemed she had the typical Gryffindor view that "Slytherin" was synonymous to "evil, conniving dastard."

The four of them stood in silence a moment, listening to Zander's huffing breaths, and then the carved stone gargoyle stood aside to reveal Dumbledore standing in the entryway. His smile alleviated Pan's fears; surely he wouldn't be smiling if they were in trouble.

"Well! All on time then, I see. Come in." He moved to the side and beckoned them towards the door. Alice straightened her shoulder and crossed the threshold first, followed closely by Win, who appeared to be her friend. Pan and Zander looked at one another for a moment, and then Zander invited her to precede him with a jerk of his chin. Pan complied with a nod of thanks and entered. She stopped short, fascinated by the curious staircase, with its risers moving slowly upward in a spiral. Conscious of Zander and Dumbledore behind her, she stepped onto the staircase. The steps wound upwards, not troubled in the least by her weight. When her step reached the landing, Pan hesitated a moment too long and the stepped pressed her toes against the raised lip of the landing, sending her stumbling as she scrambled to get off the step. Zander stepped off the staircase behind her with embarrassing ease, steadying her elbow momentarily in the same movement. She looked up in surprise; usually the Gryffindors were right, and Slytherins were mean-spirited gits. It seemed she'd stumbled upon one of the few exceptions. She said, "Thanks" and they followed Alice and Win into Dumbledore's office.

Pan stared. She supposed the staircase ought to have been ample warning as to what lay ahead, but the office was a feast for inquisitive eyes. Her eyes darted from instrument to curious instrument, and she wondered what their uses were and how they worked. She heard a click as the door closed, and Dumbledore's soft, amused voice: "A collection of useful items, all nearly as strange as they look." She jumped; she hadn't had much dealings with the headmaster, and his seeming omniscience never failed to disconcert her. Not for the first time, she wondered if he were a Legilimens.

The headmaster stepped around her and crossed to his desk, sitting and steepling his fingers in a characteristic gesture. His eyes twinkled kindly as he said, "Relax. You're not in trouble." Alice let out an audible sigh of relief and Dumbledore smiled. "Now, I'll keep you as briefly as possible from your beds, You four are here because of your exceptional work in Charms and Transfiguration, as well as for your enthusiasm for learning and most particularly for spell-casting."

Dumbledore paused and looked around at them. Alice was grinning, Win stared shyly at his shoes, Pan was waiting raptly for what came next and Zander had a tilt to his chin and a set to his shoulder that indicated pride in his accomplishments.

Dumbledore continued, "The Ministry of Magic allows us to choose four students each year, one from each house, to participate in a special extra course in the creation of new spells. The Ministry controls the privilege of learning this process tightly, because it can be a troublesome and dangerous business, and I want you four to take this course very seriously. You will not be required to pursue a job in Charm Research, but if you decided that is the path you wish to take, this course will speed up your training considerably. Now, because this is such an exclusive class, it has not been put in your normal class schedule. Instead, your class will meet two Tuesdays a month in Professor Flitwick's office after dinner." He looked around at them again, but this time their reactions were the same: they were all stunned.

Pan was ecstatic; she had never heard of this class, and to be singled out so was very gratifying. Besides, it sounded so fascinating: spell creation! She had never wondered how the spells she used every day had been formulated, but now it seemed glaringly obvious that somebody--many somebodies--had learned a science that she had never known existed. Her own curiosity made her eager to be counted among that number. Pan broke the silence, her eagerness evident in her voice: "When do we start?"

"Tempting as I'm sure esoteric knowledge is to you, Miss Laird, you'll be happy to learn that your first lesson is next Tuesday. Now, I will release you four. Sleep well, and welcome back to Hogwarts." He gestured towards the door, and the four trooped out.

* * *

When Pan reached the common room, having given the knocker its "earnest" answer, Iona pounced.

"Well? What did Dumbledore want?"

"I'm not in trouble," said Pan. Iona, rather than calming down, looked even more interested. "I got picked to be in this class, all about learning how to make up new spells. Apparently it'll help with training if I decide to do it for a living."

"Wow! That's great!" Iona had no trace of envy in her voice; Charms was rather a weakness of hers. "So who else got picked?"

"Alice Moran, Win Paxton, Zander Dorn."

"Seriously? Just four?"

Pan shrugged. "I guess it's pretty exclusive."

"I'll say," said Iona.

Pan yawned. After he gluttony at the feast and the excitement of the announcement--not to mention the trip to Hogwarts--she was so exhausted that her bones felt heavy.

"I'm gonna go to bed, all right?" said Pan, when Iona showed every sign of wanting to settled in for a nice long chat in the armchairs. "I'm _tired_."

"Okay. 'Night."

"Good night," said Pan through another yawn. She waved half-heartedly and turned towards the dormitories. She walked past the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and into the dormitory stairwell. The landing was semi-circular, its stone walls lightened by arched windows. A narrow stair went up to the right and down to the left. The downward flight led towards the boys' dormitories, which weren't in the tower proper but rather in an adjoining section of the castle, all on one floor. The girls' dormitories were upstairs, on four different floors of the tower; all the floors had landings in the same shape as the landing outside the common room. The three floors between the common room and the seventh year girls' dormitory were each bisected by a narrow hallway, pierced by arched doors made of dark, glossy wood on the right and left. One either side of the hallway was a room, large enough for the comfort of its inhabitants, but not quite spacious, with arched windows along the curved wall. When Pan entered the fifth years' dormitory on the east side of the fourth floor of the tower, she was pleased to see that it was no different from last year's dormitory, apart from an extra flight of stairs. Five bedsteads were pushed up against the flat wall the room shared with the hallway, draped in indigo quilts embroidered with glittering bronze stars. Two desks, which were destined for very little use whatever as few wished to work in the dormitories, abutted the northern flat wall. A plush window seat upholstered in the same fashion as the beds provided seating. With a tired sigh, Pan changed into her nightgown. The soft feather mattress felt like the sweetest of reliefs against her body, which ached with weariness. She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

A loud crash woke Pan. Groggily, she looked to the window and noted, confused, that it was still dark. Her ears picked up soft murmurs, but they were cut off by a loud thump before her brain could process them. She looked around for the source of the noise with sleep-blurred eyes. The first thing she saw was one of the desks, which had shifted position. It no longer stood flush with the wall, but rather awry, as if its had turned to look out the window. A leather-bound tome lay nearby.

The second thing was Iona. She stood, heavy book in hand, her face contorted with anger. Suddenly Pan understood the sounds that had woken her: when Iona was angry, she threw things. Only in extreme ire did she throw her precious books; something was terribly amiss.

"Iona?" Pan asked. "What's wrong?" Past Iona, she the murmured, shy, even-tempered Adina Bright, look at her with relief. Adina had never been very good at coping with Iona when she was in a rage.

"He's such an ass!" Iona cried, throwing the book. It landed against the base of the window seat with a dull thud.

"Who is? What happened? Tell me everything." Pan stood and crossed to Iona and took her next projectile firmly out of her hands. She led her to the bed Pan had recently vacated and sat, watching her expectantly. Iona sat too, and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Tell me everything" was their time-honored signal that it was time for Iona to calm down and get her wrath out in words, not violence against inanimate objects.

"Conor is an ass. I was bored, and I asked if he wanted to take a night walk. You know we did that all the time last year!" She did. Pan had often been amazed at their uncanny ability to get out onto the grounds, walk around a bit and get back again without once getting caught. "Well," continued Iona, "this year he's all high-and-mighty _prefect_." She spat the word out as if it would leave a nasty taste in her mouth. "He refused. Told me if I even tried a stunt like that he'd know and he'd be forced to report me. Some crap about 'duty' or whatever. Stupid, tattling rat!" She slammed her clenched fist down on the mattress. "He'd sell out his own girlfriend just 'cause his precious teachers told him to."

"Did you break up?" Pan asked gently.

"Break up? Of course we broke up! The guy can't be trusted to protect me after all this time we've been together, what use is he?" She sniffed in what she wanted Pan to think was disgust, turning away to hide the uncontrollable frown. When she had got her urge to cry under control--she hated crying in front of anyone--she turned back to Pan and said, "I hate him. We're done, and he knows it."

Pan hugged Iona wordlessly, knowing Iona would only scoff if she offered words of comfort. "Thanks," Iona finally said, breaking away and going to her own bed. Pan looked around and realized Adina had left, probably not wanting to intrude.

"Good night," said Iona presently, and before long they were both asleep.


End file.
